


Gunmetal Grey

by shamusandstone (theleaveswant)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: BDSM, Community: kink_bingo, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Face Slapping, Gags, Gunplay, Leather Kink, RACK - Freeform, Teasing, Wax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-02
Updated: 2008-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/shamusandstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the early days of their relationship, before they went to Dramatown. Top!Kara plus tags equals self-explanatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gunmetal Grey

Even once the decision was made to set up camp on the surface of the planet they'd called New Caprica, there were several weeks of preparation required before civilians or fleet officers were allowed down except on official business. While the rest of the population aboard the remnant Colonial fleet spent these weeks squirming in anticipation, Kara spent them squirming for reasons altogether more interesting.

One day she blew a chunk of her paycheck on the black market: candles, ambrosia, and a little black dress that almost fit. That night, drunk and giddy, the dress lying crumpled on the floor, their bodies entwined on the table, Sam had the bold inspiration of taking one of the thin red candles she'd arranged around the rack (the other pilots must have been getting more than a little sick of her commandeering it all the time; at least she always made a perfunctory effort to clean up afterwards) and letting the melted wax drip down onto her skin. She jumped, then looked at him with wide eyes.

“Impressive initiative, soldier,” she panted. “Do it again.”

Grinning, Sam hoisted her up and swung her around, so that he was sitting on the edge of the table with her legs wrapped around his hips and their torsos tilted away from each other. He held the candle over their heads, letting the wax spatter down over her breasts and belly and trickle down to where their bodies met. She giggled and grabbed his hand, pushed it away from herself so that the wax spilled onto his own body, and he groaned and shared in her mischievous laugh. Then his strength won out and he forced the candle back onto her side (not that she was fighting all that hard).

“Wait,” she whined, going still as a statue and willing him to do likewise, hands on his chest, “wait, wait. I don't want to come yet.”

“Well,” Sam said dropping the candle and rubbing his hands up her sweat-sticky back, “can I?”

“Frak, no! You'll come when I tell you. Just be patient,” she slapped him lightly on the cheek as she scolded him, then whispered huskily in his ear, “it'll be worth it.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It's a guarantee.”

“You're a cruel woman, Kara, you know that?” He nuzzled her neck. “I swear to the Gods, if you weren't so frakking hot . . .”

She laughed, throaty and breathless. “Such a rotten actor. You love this. Love being under my control.” She bit his ear and he moaned a confirmation. “So be a good slut and tell me how to break your brain. Tell me what'll make you cry. Tell me what'll put you over the frakking edge.”

Sam shuddered and scrunched his eyes shut, and Kara felt a surge of affection. He was trying not to make this easy for her, and it was taking more than a little effort. If he chose to pick her up and frak her through the bulkhead, she couldn't stop him (and, honestly, wouldn't mind), but he wouldn't until she gave him permission. She'd been delighted to discover early on that he was susceptible to dirty talk, but this submissive streak was getting more and more interesting.

“If--” Sam began then swallowed. “Remember the first time we met, you pulled a gun on me?”

“Yeah.”

“And again, when you came back for me and we got pinned down, thought the Cylons were gonna get us?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't mean for it to become a habit.”

“No, it's fine. I mean, it's not _fine_ , but I understand, and actually . . . I actually think it was kinda hot.”

“No kidding.” Kara raised an eyebrow.

“Don't laugh.”

“I'm not.” Slowly and as gracefully as she could manage, trying to keep her legs from shaking and betraying how close she was to combusting with need herself, she lifted herself off his cock and sashayed over to her locker.

“I didn't literally mean—“ He protested. “I just meant the adrenalin, the risk. You—you're hot when you're dangerous.”

“Is that so?” She paused there, stunned by the sight of herself in the mirror inside the door. She looked like a madwoman, with her mussed hair and flushed cheeks, and the bright crimson wax streaking her naked skin was positively gruesome. She certainly wouldn't hit that. But there was Anders, languidly touching himself, staring at her like she was the sexiest thing in the universe.

She met his eyes over her own reflected shoulder. The intensity of that gaze, those almost-blue eyes, gave her chills. They call that colour gunmetal grey, she thought to herself, and giggled. That broke the spell and allowed her to snap back into character.

“Did I give you permission to do that?” She asked without turning around.

His hand flew away from his crotch. “No, Ma'am.”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” She spun on her heel and stalked back over to him. He'd opened his mouth to speak but didn't, unsure whether to answer, and she seized his jaw and forced a leather glove between his parted lips.

He moaned around the gag, eyes rolling back drunkenly in his head. She slapped him.

“Look at me,” she hissed, leaning close enough to smell the leather, and understood his reaction. The smoke-and-sweat stink of it hit her like a hammer. She'd always liked the smell, but had never before found it so intoxicating. She realized with a start that this was some of the last leather in the universe. Unless there were cows on Earth, no one would ever be able to make another calfskin glove.

“Not yet. Don't you dare come yet.”

She went back to the locker, pulled her sidearm from its holster and held it behind her as she returned and climbed back onto his lap. He'd put on a fresh condom while he was waiting and his cock was heavy and hot and hard as steel inside her as she slid down onto him.

He moaned and she raised the gun to his temple. “What did I say?”

He muttered something around the glove. It sounded like “You're insane.”

“I'm insane?” Kara asked, moving against him. “Look at you? You've got a gun to your head and it's making you so hot you're delirious.”

He twitched an eyebrow in sardonic acknowledgment. She started to ride him faster, grind her clit against his belly harder. Frak, but she was close already. The sight of the barrel digging into his skin, his eyes closed tight in rapturous concentration while his breath snorted through his nose and around the obstruction in his mouth, was unbelievably sexy. She squeezed her free hand on the back of his neck to steady herself and pushed the weapon harder into his flesh. He flinched and made a little whining sound. Pleading. Desperate to come.

“Not yet,” she panted, slamming her hips against his. “Not yet.”

She thumbed the safety on the gun and he gasped, biting into the leather and burying his head against her collarbone. She could feel the intensity of his spasming inside her. He held her still for several minutes, stroking her back.

She turned the barrel to the ceiling, laying the gun along the side of his face, and kissed his third eye before whispering in his ear. “I told you not to do that. Now you're really going to have to make it up to me, you bad, bad boy.”

He groaned again, and Kara grinned. This was going to be fun.


End file.
